


Twisted Deceit

by kristsune



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Mentions of Blood, Sacrifice, Transformation, canon character death, gertrude has zero qualms of sacrificing michael to the cause, loss of reality, references to MAG 101, things do not end well for michael shelley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 06:29:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20523479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristsune/pseuds/kristsune
Summary: Michael Shelley opens a door and is changed forever.





	Twisted Deceit

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so I've loved Michael from the first moment I heard that twisted laughter, and after spending quite some time making [this audio compilation](https://kristsune.tumblr.com/post/187355895749/this-is-just-a-compilation-of-all-of-michaels) my brain just wouldn't let go of this idea. Of Michael Shelley becoming Michael. I hope I managed to do it justice.  
Shout out to [Jesse](https://thebisexualmandalorian.tumblr.com/) for helping me out when my brain goes blank.  
Feel free to stop by and say hi on [tumblr!](https://kristsune.tumblr.com)

Michael Shelley looked at the scene in front of him - the tangled, folded, indescribable building - and felt like he couldn’t breathe. It made  _ no sense _ . Doors where there shouldn’t be, stairs going to nowhere, rooms that looked to be turning into themselves. It hurt his head to look upon, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away. The way the shapes… _ twisted _ … was as beautiful as it was terrifying.

“Come along, Michael. We have work to do.”

Michael blinked a few times, Gertrude’s voice pulling him back from the edge he had been on the brink of falling into. 

Gertrude lead the way around the impossible building. Michael tried to keep his eyes averted, swearing that he could see it shift and move in his peripheral, and not wanting to have that proved by looking straight on. He had no idea how Gertrude managed to keep so calm, so unaffected by the disturbing, contorted building. 

Eventually they stood in front of a yellow door. (Michael couldn’t actually remember how they got there. They were suddenly just  _ there _ .) It was… surprisingly solid, considering how much everything else wouldn’t stop shifting.

“Open it.” Gertrude’s intense voice cut into his musing, and he let out a small huff of nervous laughter to cover how badly he startled. 

Michael leaned forward and pulled the door, which creaked ominously as it opened wide. It led to a hallway which looked nothing like he had expected (though he couldn’t say just what he  _ would _ have expected in a place like this). It initially looked… like a regular hallway, except the more he stared, the more unreal it became. The perspective seemed skewed, lines that should be parallel, moving into the distance, sat at odd angles, and made it so he couldn’t tell how far it actually went. The wallpaper looked to be textured, but he couldn’t quite tell from this distance, and the floor made him dizzy, no matter if he looked at it head on or not, the pattern was so striking. 

“Here, take this, and follow it exactly.” Michael looked down at the piece of paper Gertrude had placed in his hands. It looked to have directions on it, but they didn’t make much sense. 

“What - What is it?” Michael heard how breathless he was, though he couldn’t figure out why he would be so out of breath.

“It’s how you’re going to save the world, Michael.” she replied with an expression Michael couldn’t quite read. Not that Gertrude was ever an easy person to read at the best of times, but she seemed to be hiding something in particular. “All you have to do is follow the instructions, _ to the letter _ , and you will save us all.”

“But, what about you? Will you be okay?” Michael couldn’t quite bring himself to fully look away from the looming doorway to ask, but at least some part of him was still worried about her. How would she get out? Was Captain Lukas still waiting for them? Would she be warm enough back on that frigid boat?

“I’ll be fine. You need to hurry though. Remember. Follow the instructions.” Gertrude, gave him a gentle nudge towards the doorway, and he found himself walking through it, unable to even turn to say goodbye. 

Michael pulled the door shut behind him, and was alone.

He knew he wasn’t thinking properly, his brain felt like it was stuffed with wool, scratching the inside of his brain. Everything had been so strange as soon as he and Gertrude had stepped foot on this too warm island, but it was multiplied a hundredfold as soon as that door shut. The pattern on the floor shifted and moved every time he looked at it, and the textured wallpaper was slightly different every time he brought his eyes back to it, though he could never figure out what exactly had changed.

Michael felt something crinkle in his hand, and looked at the piece of paper rather than the twisting hallway around him. A map. Right. The instructions. It… it didn’t seem to make much sense, lines were overlapping and jumbled together, but he would do what he could. 

He started down the hallway, keeping his eyes on the paper as much as he could, to avoid getting too dizzy, but it didn’t really help. The first left he made, the wallpaper changed color, but still had the same arresting texture and movement. The floor had changed, but he no longer could remember what it had changed from. 

Michael made every turn, opened every door, and smashed every mirror that the map told him too. He unfortunately hadn’t had anything with him to use besides his hands, and started to leave a trail of blood behind him when the shards of glass inevitably sliced them open. At some point the blood started to stick to his fingers, making long bloody claws, but that didn’t stop him from doing what he needed to. 

Time held no meaning in those twisting, ever changing hallways. Colors, and, patterns, and shapes, and distance stopped making sense a long time ago. Or maybe they never had made any sense, and he was only aware of that fact now.

After what had felt like years, or perhaps only minutes, he made it to the final door. All he had to do was open this and he would be done. He knew now, that he wouldn’t make it out of this alive, he just hoped that he gave Gertrude enough time to get off this wretched island. 

Michael Shelley gripped the door handle in his bloody hand and pulled it open, only to hear the most pained, inhuman, desperate scream. He realized belatedly that it was coming from himself.

  
  
  


_ Agony.  _

_ Pain. _

_ Twisted.  _

_ Opened wide. _

_ Ripped asunder. _

_ Corrupted.  _

_ Changed. _

_ Remade. _

_ Michael. _

** _Michael_ ** .

  
  
  


If there had been anyone left alive on the island that never was, they would have heard an echoing, twisted laughter that had no mirth in it, and the creaking of a door being shut. 


End file.
